


The Other Choice

by Barb G (troutkitty)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-10-20
Updated: 1999-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:24:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troutkitty/pseuds/Barb%20G
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the companion piece to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/265015">The Choice</a>. Not a sequel, more like...what else could have happened.  Skip down to where things start to go bad if you don't want to re-read the common beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Choice

**Author's Note:**

> No warnings, they still don't belong to me. Devo beta'ed this one.

The package arrived on a Tuesday.

Mulder opened it, thinking it was something else in its plain brown wrapped box. He frowned at the pair of leather gloves that were crumpled on the bottom of the box like something dead. He picked them up. The blood, invisible on the leather, was cold against his fingers.

He had left the door open. That was a mistake. The blow hit him across the back of his skull and he fell forward.

 

Mulder touched the goose egg on the back of his head. His gun was gone, and from the feel of it, so was his cell phone. He groaned and opened his eyes.

Krycek knelt in the middle of what looked like an abandoned warehouse. His face was beaten enough that his left eye was swollen shut. His lip was split, but the blood had thickened enough that it wasn't dripping any more. His entire body trembled, and Mulder heard his laboured breathing from where he sat against one of the support beams. Krycek wore all black, so it was impossible to see how much blood he had lost. The man didn't move from where someone had positioned him.

Krycek knelt with his hand behind his neck like he had the day before, when he had sucked Mulder's cock.

It had been an ordinary day until Mulder followed a tip to search a dumpster. He only found Krycek. Slamming Krycek against the wall sexually charged him, and the man's passive acceptance to the blows only made it worse. Mulder knocked the man to his knees and forced him at gun-point to put his hand up. Krycek obeyed, but snidely asked him if he wanted his dick sucked while he was down there.

Mulder took him up on it. Mostly because he wanted to wipe the superior look off Krycek's face as he whipped his dick out of his pants, but Krycek didn't blink as he went down on him.

Mulder hadn't known cocksucker was meant to be a compliment.

Krycek sucked him off, right there in the alleyway. Mulder should have pushed him away. He should have smacked him across the head (after his cock was safely out of the man's mouth, of course) and walked away. He couldn't. He grabbed Krycek's head and fucked his way down the back of Krycek's throat.

And it had felt good. The guilt had been sudden and absolute once he had enough time away from the orgasm to realize what the he had just done, and with whom. Mulder had backpedaled away from Krycek, who was still on his knees in the filth.

The last image he had was of the single light reflecting off the shine of Krycek's glove, still behind his neck.

"Not quite so pretty any more, is he?" the smoker asked, coming out of the shadows. He held a gun trained to Krycek.

Krycek didn't move at the sound of the raspy voice. His body was still shuddering. "But still there is a certain...charm to him like this, wouldn't you say, Agent Mulder?" the smoker asked. He lifted Krycek's chin, and deliberately flicked his cigarette in Krycek's face. Krycek winced as the ash touched him.

Mulder pushed to his feet.

"The flesh is weak, isn't it, Alex," the smoker asked. "How long have you wanted him?"

Mulder wasn't sure if he was talking to him or Krycek. "What kind of game is this?" Mulder demanded.

"No game. At least none you're familiar with. There are rules, and my little assassin here has broken them."

"Let him go," Mulder snapped.

"I can assure you, Mr. Mulder, that you have no say in this."

"Let him up."

"He hasn't learned his lesson yet. Tell me, did you enjoy yesterday?"

Mulder went cold. The smoker continued. "Because Alex did. Poor Alex. You left him in quite a...tight...spot."

"What do you want?" Mulder demanded.

"You ask the wrong question. I'm here to give you something."

"What."

"Not what, who. Do you want him?"

"Krycek?" Mulder asked, confused.

"I'm afraid he's quite ruined for what we need him. He's lost his edge. Became soft, figuratively speaking of course as the opposite has happened. What good is an assassin that stops to think? Or worse, that stops to suck off his intended victim?"

Mulder hoped it was a rhetorical question.

"Krycek has one more use to us. To control you. From what we saw last night you were an active participant of the fellatio committed. So, I repeat myself. Do you want him?"

Krycek opened his eye, looking at Mulder for the first time. There was almost a plea in the single green eye. "And accepting him means...?" Mulder asked.

"Accepting me. My guidance. My tutelage. I respect your accomplishments, but you are a thorn in my side."

"You put a lot on a single blowjob."

"I know Alex. I know where his talents lie."

Alex parted his lips to say something, but Mulder slowly shook his head. Krycek had his loyalties, Mulder had his. They didn't match. This man killed his father. This was the invertebrate scum-sucking maggot...Mulder bit his lip. Krycek had sucked a lot more than scum last night, and Mulder had done nothing to make Krycek stop.

"Mulder--" Krycek managed. His voice was low and broken. Mulder started to nod, but the smoker stepped into Krycek's space and pressed his gun into Krycek's temple.

"Do we have a deal?" he asked.

The smoker chose the wrong moment to flick his ashes. His hand shook. His fucking hand shook. The entire fucked-upness of the situation hit Mulder hard like a physical blow and he was glad he hadn't actually stepped away the post. He took a deep breath, and hoped the decades he had spent studying human nature hadn't failed him.

"You're doing it wrong," Mulder said, taking a step forward.

"I can assure you I know what I am doing, Agent Mulder," the smoker said, idly.

"Bullshit. Shoot him there and you're likely as not to just blow off his jawbone. Give me the gun."

The smoker just laughed, a harsh barking sound, but it took an extra moment to be completely natural. Sweat started to shine on his upper lip. "Has this pathetic attempt to control the situation worked for you in the past, Agent Mulder?"

"You shoot a man in the head, you do it here," Mulder said. He ignored how loud his pulse beat against his eardrum and reached out to take hold of the man's hand. Mulder didn't attempt to take the gun away, but pressed it into Krycek's jaw. Krycek tried to swallow, but couldn't. Mulder pushed hard enough to force Krycek's head back. "Soft matter all the way up to the brain."

The smoker didn't pull the trigger.

He almost tried to pull his hand away, but Mulder then guided it to Krycek's forehead. Krycek looked up to him, but Mulder ignored him. He pressed the gun hard enough to feel it press against the bone. "Or here. Try to angle it like this so it goes through the frontal lobe if nothing else."

The smoker still didn't pull the trigger.

"Point well taken. Stand back, Agent Mulder, unless you want that suit to become blood-splattered."

"I'm looking forward to it," he said. The smoker readjusted his grip on the gun. Where his hand had been, the grip was wet with sweat. Mulder ran his knuckle hard down the bruise on the left side of Krycek's cheek. "Do it," he whispered. "Blow his fucking faggot head off."

Krycek's eye opened wide, and Mulder spit at him. The glob landed on his cheek and dripped down the side without the bruise. The room froze for a moment. Mulder heard the smoker's harsh breath, Krycek's pained intake, and his own pulse quickening due to lack of fresh oxygen, but that was it. A look passed between Krycek and the smoker. Mulder stepped back and let go of the gun, not wanting to interrupt. The smoker pressed the gun harder against Krycek's forehead. Krycek whispered something, and with his swollen lip, Mulder didn't understand it. Krycek repeated it, louder.

"I'm sorry."

The smoker kicked Krycek hard in the ribs. Krycek collapsed, not even rolling up to protect himself. The smoker stepped down over Krycek's neck and held the gun about two feet from Krycek's head. Krycek closed his eyes and flinched, waiting for it.

The smoker was going to do it. Mulder's heart thudded in his chest and he stepped forward to stop the murder at what ever the price, but then the safety clicked back on and the smoker thrust the gun back into his jacket. He left without saying another word.

Eventually Krycek realized the gun wasn't going off. He sat up cautiously and winced in pain. The disappointment that the smoker had left was obvious even on his bruised face.

Mulder stood over him, unsure. Krycek just sat there. His body continued to tremble, and his lip had cracked again when he spoke. He finally looked up and blinked at Mulder.

"You gonna shoot me?" Krycek asked.

"You want to be shot?" Mulder asked, confused.

Krycek looked at the door the smoker had gone through, and actually looked like he thought about it. "No," he finally said. He put his head down and groaned in pain.

"You should go to the hospital," Mulder said, and went to help him. Krycek flinched away.

"Stay the fuck away from me," Krycek said, and pushed to his feet.

Krycek stood and trembled for a moment, but then lifted his head and walked away. Mulder stared down at the blood spilled on the floor. It was starting to turn rusty at the edges, and there was a bloody handprint just beyond it. He looked up; Krycek was almost at the door. "I just saved your life!" Mulder shouted, suddenly angry at the lack of thanks.

"Don't do me any more favours," Krycek called back in his broken voice.

Mulder stood there and watched him go. In a one move, Mulder had foiled the smoker's plans and Krycek's death-wish. His job here was done. Krycek struggled with the door and Mulder watched him go. He gave Krycek a week, two at the maximum to heal, but then it was back to searching the dark alleyways.

The End


End file.
